


Oh

by caramelmage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Bianca mention thats all, Fluff, M/M, Pining, hawkevarric nation rise up with me, no sauce, varric centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26263615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelmage/pseuds/caramelmage
Summary: Varric realizes he's in love with his best friend. It may be the most wonderful and worst thing that's ever happened to him.
Relationships: Hawke/Varric Tethras, Male Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Oh

_Shit_

It hit Varric faster than a speeding carriage full of pompous nobles off to Val Royeaux. 

He sat a bit further away from everyone else, scribbling little notes down about the travels for the day. He was a little hermit observing others from afar, listening in on their conversations. Completely for story writing reasons. The wind howled in the dark night as waves boomed and crashed against the rocky cliffs. The Storm Coast was no friend of theirs. All seven of them. Everyone was exhausted. Bruised and battered, they talked among themselves and shared stories. The smiles and laughter never truly stopped.

And yet Varric was given the gift of something tonight. Realization? A pair of eyes? But the immediate response was to shoo it away. He watched Hawke make some sort of convoluted joke. The way Garrett’s brown eyes glimmered beneath the fire. Thick hair of a beard that curled up when he smiled at something Isabela had crudely said in retort..

_No_ . _No no no. I can’t._ Varric stressed to himself. Entirely internally. _I can’t._

He wished it would go away. And it did. 

_______

Months upon months later, it had been another late night at The Hanged Man. Hawke and Varric remained after several drinks and several games of Wicked Grace. Hawke wobbled about and spoke loudly to everyone and everything in sight. Varric was a litttttle bit better at handling his drinks and tried to hide his laughter. And admiration. But it was definitely time for someone to go home. 

“Let’s get you home, Hawke. It’s a long way to Hightown from here.” Varric chuckled.

“Oh stop that, mother hen. I’m fine.” Garrett stated proudly. Then belched loudly shaking The Hanged Man to its core.

Varric chuckled. That was disgusting but he loved it. “Hawke! Are you sure? That gastric plea of help says otherwise. C’mon, big guy. Let’s go.”

Varric waved the barmaids goodbye and allowed Garrett to lean on him as he ushered him out. Like a king leaving his court to retire for the evening. Having a human lean on him was tough to say the least but Varric had pretty strong arms so it wasn’t too difficult. He really thought his little bubbling feelings had subsided. But he still needed to suppress the little glow in his chest. It was annoying as it was lovely. 

They’ve had too many moments like this. Too many to count on two hands. And Varric remembered each and every one. The extended stares. A tender brush of hands. A hug that never stopped. Sometimes Varric wished Garrett would just reach out, caress his cheek and whisper something to make them both flush.

But he pulled himself back into reality and assisted his best friend back home. That would never happen. Ever. In the cool Lowtown air, the pungent smell of shit and/or piss hit his nose. Ah… He would never truly forget that smell. It was like a memory etched into his nose. It kept him grounded. 

Garrett was in good spirits. Too good. He sang loudly and shook the filthy streets of Lowtown in his own little earthquake. The poor sleepers of Kirkwall.

“Join in Varric! Come on! You know this one! ‘Andraste led me to SEA! Who could she beeee. Mermaid or siren it doesn’t matter to me.” Garrett _really_ belted out that one.While he sang and danced along, he almost stumbled into a rough looking thug who scowled when he got too close. Varric YANKED him away swiftly and looked at the thug apologetically. Everyone knew Varric, so the thug shrugged it off.

“I have to say, Violets, I don’t know that one.” Varric sighed. 

Garrett giggled. His head was swimming. The world was distorted and swung with every step. He almost collided with someone _again_ until he turned aggressively out of the way, spinning out of control. He stumbled into Varric from the side. The poor dwarf was forced into the wall. The pressure of hitting the wall on his back pushed the air out of him, winding him slightly.

Garrett adjusted himself, using his one arm over on the wall to prop himself further from poor Varric and avoided squashing him.

“Sorry.” Garrett apologized.

And yet Varric didn’t mind when Garrett loomed over him. He looked fantastic right now. Too good. The sweat made his messed up hair cling to his forehead. It was too much to process. They both lock eyes for a moment and Varric doesn’t have any words to say. Instead he wished and wanted something to happen again. Perhaps a kiss would do. Maybe some inappropriate touching. His heartbeat thundered in his chest. Maker damn it all! Why did everyone have to look so beautiful in the moonlight?

“Are you?” Varric raised a brow. “Not very convinced.” 

Garrett belched again.

“Disgusting, Violets. Charming.” Varric chuckled. But he slipped out from under Garrett. “Come on. Your mother would be worried if I don’t deliver you like a little messenger.” 

His heart felt like it was going to go into overdrive. _Never think of this moment again_ , he reminded himself.

That didn’t work out so well.

  
  


_______

Three years after Hawke struck the final blow to the Arishok. Three years where Varric often found himself feeling the most alone he had ever felt. The dynamics of the group had shifted and strayed. The tensions between Hawke’s They were an odd bunch. A family where every single person was different. With Bartrand out of reach. Varric really was alone without the company he kept. He isolated himself sometimes and denied invites to places and parties on his off days. It had hurt. 

He knew Hawke was in a similar position. With Bethany off at the Circle and Leandra now not of this world, Hawke was alone in Kirkwall. But wasn’t that just the case of everyone in their band of loners. They had mages that had strayed from where they were ‘supposed to be’. Warriors that had broken free. Warriors _and_ princes that had lost everything.

And yet Varric had felt more alone than ever. Even with all these wonderful people around him He sat at his desk and struggled to write the latest chapter of “The Tale of The Champion”. Sometimes it hurt to write. Other times it flowed easier than ale into the tankard.

Sometimes Varric wrote words and he knew that they were too full of love and admiration. He needed to edit and then edit over that edit. He knew that people would figure it out. And even if he tried really hard, some scholar at The University Of Orlais would figure him out. Damn literary scholars. Maker-damn them all!

But it hurts to love, Varric decided. For many years he had come to that conclusion. The man still had the lingering thoughts of Bianca. The real Bianca. He loved that woman. And he still cared for her. She was formidable. Smart. Maker knows that. But he was hurt by her even if he hated to admit it. Meeting up with her. Doing dirty filthy deeds. Was it enough? No. Risking his life and your emotional intelligence had taken a toll on Varric. He didn’t know anymore. He knew there was the possibility of having both. But maybe it was… time to let go. That decision _hurt._

He knew he loved Hawke. He was in love with Hawke. He had been for years. He wanted nothing more than to hold Garrett for the end of his days until they were grey, grizzled and wiser. He wanted to tell Garrett that he loved him so purely. So intensely. But most importantly: tenderly.

But he knew in his heart someone as valiant and strong. Heroic. Kind. Smart. Compassionate. Witty. Funny. Garrett had a voice like nutty tasting honey…. No one like that could love Varric back. Never. Why else would Varric hold his tongue? It seemed almost wrong. Like they didn’t balance eachother out.

The Hanged Man swelled with noise as Varric put his forehead on his desk. And for some reason it put Varric to sleep, exhausted with emotion.

  
  


_______

Varric and Garrett might never feel the same after dealing with this supposed Corypheus. The Deep Roads were a curse. Varric despised those slimy walls. He kept thinking about that stupid place over the shitty mead he sipped.

The two week trip back was tough but Varric was extremely pleased that Bethany and Anders were there to accompany them. They both made for amazing stories. 

Bethany talked about a childhood Garrett and the long plains of Lothering. The way she described it made Varric taste the bread in the stone oven, all to be eaten later by the Hawkes slathered with butter. 

And Anders… Oh Anders. What tales of tragedy he had. Varric could feel the sadness and ache that came from the Circle. Being trapped in a place like that sounded like torture. Fearing for your life every day? Awful. But it didn’t help when Anders was so cheeky. The stories he told about the Grey Wardens? He really shouldn’t have told Varric. Having that information was extremely dangerous for a writer who made a lot of shit up.

But at the current moment at The Hanged man, Garrett looked beyond tired. His eyes drooped after he downed another ale. 

“We did well.” Varric piped up, shuffling cards aimlessly for a game that was never going to happen.

“That Corypheus. I can’t shake the feeling of it all. That was scary. That wasn’t just me right? That was scary.” Garrett mumbled. “He said a lot of shit, Varric, and that scared me.”

“ It was terrifying. You didn’t say much on the two weeks we spent getting back. We dealt with it? Didn’t we? We’re alive.” Varric stopped shuffling the cards and put a hand over Garrett’s “ _You’re_ alive, more importantly.”

Garrett looked uncomfortable. Not because of the hand. Varric’s self worth fluctuated sometimes. He didn’t like that. “You need to stop putting me on a pedestal, Varric. You need to stop… putting me above you. You’re my friend.” He swallowed. “ You deserve as much of a reason to be alive as I do.”

Varric looked at Garrett, deep down trying to believe the words being said. But it was hard. Like a difficult decision, he mulled over it. But before he got too deep into the eternal abyss of thoughts, he felt Garret’s hand over his own. Like a Garrett hand sandwich. 

“Yeah? Well. Glad someone thinks so.” Varric chuckled. But it was amazingly empty and hollow. “Say. It’s getting late. You wanna take my room? Or we can get you a completely different room.”

Garrett made a vague hand gesture. “Yes. Yes, yours is fine. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Varric rolled his eyes. “As if I would let you sleep on the floor. You’re not sleeping on the damn floor. I have to do some writing so you can take my bed.” 

“But what about when you have to sleep?” Garrett tilted his head.

Varric chuckled. “When _do_ I sleep? I probably won’t need it. All yours, Violets.” He asked as he left his chair and pushed it back into the table neatly. 

He put his hands behind his back and expected Garrett to follow. 

Garrett did so and tried very hard not to step on Varric's heels.

Once in the shabby little room, Garrett looked around and saw how Varric made it his own. The desk was full of papers and quills. Red materials hung from random places like decorations. Jackets lay lazily on chairs. Items for crossbow maintenance were all across the floor. It was organized and yet cluttered.

It was home for Varric. 

“Get to sleep. You humans love to sleep.” Varric chimed in, suddenly organizing the things on his desk. 

Garrett was simply too tired to argue but he snorted. He sat on the edge of the bed. But he doesn’t lie down. He stared at Varric’s back. How many times has he stared at Varric and thought about him when he wasn’t looking

“I’m not hearing you get into bed.” Varric raised a brow into his work. He turned around and leaned on his writing desk. 

Caught. 

“Are you judging my abode, Messere?” The dwarf crossed his arms and grinned. 

“My friend I could never judge you! Not when I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you many many times.” 

_That’s what makes you endearing._ Varric mulled over in his mind. Inviting him here was a mistake. Garrett was perfect and was just _sitting_ there. Varric knew it was bad when he thought about how good Garrett looked just sitting there.

The champion spoke up once more. “Varric. You know I meant what I said before? You are important. We’re equals. You know that. I… hope you know that.” He fiddled with his boots and kicked it off, but he never stopped looking with those deep amber eyes. 

Varric felt like he was on the spot. Oh he loves attention. Don’t get him wrong. But when it was from someone he had genuine feelings for? Now that was hard. It was incredibly confrontational. The flutter in his chest ached even more than it did usually. The smile he tried to hide. In which he failed. Completely.

“I don’t know. Do I?” Varric snorted.

“ _Varric_.”

Varric just chuckled again. “Alright. Alright. Thanks, Violets. You always know what to say.”

Garrett grinned back. “You know … I’ve always wondered why Violets was your choice of name.”

“That’s easy! You’re a bunch of fun. Obviously not the flower's meaning, though. Modest. Innocence. You’re definitely not modest.” Varric winked. Coping with humour was always a sure win. 

Garrett raised a brow. “Don’t talk to a country man about flowers. Don’t they also mean…” Suddenly the words felt like cement in his throat. He smiled softly. Too softly. “They also mean true love.”

Varric stopped grinning. _Shit_ . His face fell. Was that really one of the damn meanings. _Shit._ He wrung his own hands. The gloves made them feel sweatier than ever.

“I… didn’t know.” His chest was tighter than ever. But something pulled him closer to Garrett as he sat on the edge of the bed. An unstoppable force. Varric approached nearer and nearer. He _marched_ over to Garrett. His knees hit the base of the bed. _Am I too close_ , he thought as he regretted his decision to come over. The brown flecks in Garrett’s eyes looked really beautiful by the lantern lights. It was too close.

For someone who talked a lot and smartly so, his words failed to leave him. 

“I didn’t know. But I’m extremely pleased.” Varric breathed in with a shuddering breath. “Garrett… You care so much for everyone around you. You care for the little things. You’re strong. Witty. You’re….” Another breath. He has to take it easy. “Everything I need.” Varric heard his heartbeat in his ears. His face lit up in anything _but_ a drunken blush. 

He needed to take another deep breath, his hand going through his golden coloured hair. “Maybe I’m an idiot for dumping this all on you.” He spoke slowly, half expecting Garrett to do that so very annoying interruptive kiss thing that you read in romance novels.

But Garrett listens carefully, his eyes never leaving Varric. 

“Maybe you don’t feel the same way. But Garrett Hawke... I’m in love with you. Violets or not I’m in love with you and I have been for _years_. And I can’t take it anymore. Tell me you liken me to a rotten cabbage or something. Or you think my nose is too big. Just so I can get over this all.”

Varric could not hear the muffled shouts and cries of the tavern patrons outside his room. He blocked it out. The only thing he felt was one of Garrett’s hands on his waist. The other on Varric’s cheek. 

Garrett's eyes still hadn’t left Varric. His tender thumb softly moved against his cheek. 

_Say something_ Varric pleaded. His eyes fluttered against the touch. _Stop keeping me waiting._

Garrett chuckled. “I can’t believe you got in there first. Before me. You win at cards and at this, apparently. I don’t want you to get over this...” 

Varric felt like his chest was about to fall through the floor. He heard that right… right?

So stunned by this, he almost didn’t register Garrett as he moved in to close a gap that had been open for years too long. Varric hungrily lapped it all up as he gripped on Garrett’s shoulders and leaned into him. With Garrett sitting on the edge of the bed he was the perfect height right now. The kiss felt like a long deserved vacation. The champion’s lips tasted of the shitty ale they shared. Yet felt soft and pure. Varric’s hands got lost in thick forests of dark hair. It was desperate but oh so needed.

It was quite honestly the most dramatic kiss that ever existed. 

Or the most dramatic kiss that Varric had in his existence. 

Varric needed to breathe. And process this. His heart screamed at him to stop like his legs might give out as he fell to the floor. Reluctantly, he broke away and chuckled. His smile was the same as it always has been. Just that bit more happier than usual. That dumb look you got when you were in love.

“Well… erm. Apparently we’re on the same page?” Varric cleared his throat. 

Had Varric ever seen Garrett blush? Perhaps. But right now his cheeks burned. Garrett’s whole face mirrored the same colour of cherries in the summer. His gaze turned away for a moment. 

Varric leaned in for a quick peck. Just to stir the pot with a little flavour. “I didn’t know if this was a good idea. If loving you was a good idea. I thought it might… oh I don’t know! Put our friendship tits up.” He murmured, fiddling with Garrett’s shirt material. 

Garrett made a shushing noise. “Varric… no. You’re my dearest friend. I wouldn’t let that get in between us. How could I not fall in love with the most handsome man of Kirkwall. You take me for a man of bad taste? Shame!” And though his words were joking and light, his gestures are soft as he rubbed circles on Varric’s back 

“Well. I _am_ handsome. You got that right.” Varric agreed. “But so are you.”

That earned a quick kiss from Garrett. Varric really had died and gone to the Maker’s side. 

“Well. Now that we’ve exchanged saliva.” Garrett stated in an accent fit for  
Hightown and wagged a finger in the air.

Varric cringed at the very words and shoved at his shoulder. Then boomed with laughter. “Okay. If this is happening I want you to never use that description for kissing again. And never ever speak in that accent again. I know Lowtown is disgusting but that is… too much, Violets. For these parts of town.” 

“So… we’re doing this? We are… Well. Do _you_ want to be something?” Garrett spoke those words so softly. It was an innocent question.

“If you’ll be mine, Garrett? I think it would make the luckiest man in Thedas. I love you. And no tale of mine can properly convey that. Of course I want to be something!” Varric grinned from ear to ear. This didn’t feel real.

“I love you too. You big sentimental fancy pants writer.”

Varric kicked off his boots and rolled onto his bed. “You need a rest. I need a rest. We’re not fooling around like young ones. That can come later.” He put his foot down as he wiggled under the blankets. 

Garett followed suit and nestled next to Varric’s shape. “As if you were just going let me take the bed.”

“Maybe I was trying to lure you into my bed and seduce you.” Varric retorted in a very sultry manner.

Garrett put an arm around Varric and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

Varric got comfortable and thanked the Maker he decided not to write. Being in those strong arms was the only comfort he needed right now. A forehead kiss wasn’t enough. He dove straight in for a sloppy kiss on Garrett’s smart and charismatic mouth. 

“I love you too.”

… Garrett passed out immediately after the exchange. 

Varric, however, stayed awake for a few minutes, having a little look at the new love of his life. He couldn’t believe it. His affections were returned. He had Garrett. He had him. Not only did he have the love of his friends. But he had the love of Garrett Hawke.

And drifted to sleep with that very thought.


End file.
